


Twenty Dollar

by DieLadi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Injustice, Rage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieLadi/pseuds/DieLadi
Summary: A wound, inflicted as a child... carried in the heart for many years... and now... it ends bloody...
Kudos: 2





	Twenty Dollar

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Zwanzig Dollar (Halloween-Special 2019)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255134) by [DieLadi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieLadi/pseuds/DieLadi). 



> This is a translation to my german story "Zwanzig Dollar", which you can find here on AO3. Please be aware that english is not my first language.

She just didn't believe me.

I never gave her reason to.  
Yeah. I know. Mom hasn't had it easy with me. I was a wild boy. I did a lot of shit that boys my age do. You're no angel at 12.

I got my new pants dirty and I tore them up.  
I annoyed the neighbor, but the stupid cow was just an annoying old lady who only bitched, no matter what we kids did, and we were always too loud for her.  
I was lazy in school, my grades left a lot to be desired, but thank God I wasn't stupid. So I always kind of just sort of cheated my way through.  
Well, Mom always had a lot to put up with at the parent-teacher conferences, because when there were pranks to be pulled, I was usually up front.  
Well, I admit, in the household I often only lifted a finger when she threatened to lock the laptop and turn off the internet.

It was certainly not easy for her.

But - I never lied to her.  
And I never stole.

And that's why it hurt so much when she accused me and didn't believe me.  
There was twenty dollars missing from her damn housekeeping budget.  
I have no idea where it went.  
I wonder if it was some repairman who came in the day before to fix the leaky heater.  
Or the old neighbor? She kept coming over to gossip. And to complain about me and the other kids on the estate.  
Maybe mom just handed them out and didn't remember...  
In the meantime I have grown up and know that something like this can happen to you.

Anyway...  
I didn't take it.

I swear to God and everything I hold sacred... so I guess it's World of Warcraft and the gods of the Internet, St. Spotify and...  
Yeah, I'll stop with the stupid jokes.  
Whatever.  
I didn't take the fucking money!

And Mom didn't believe me. She didn't even listen to me. My guilt was clear to her. She didn't trust me.

She didn't trust me!

And I couldn't forgive that.  
I was 12, but from that day on, my life changed. I never spoke another word to her.  
I tried to explain, I begged her to believe me, but she just looked at me...  
So I never spoke to her again.

She started to worry.  
Pah!  
Dragged me to a therapist. Doctors.  
She was told that my ability to speak was unimpaired. I was speaking normally everywhere.  
Just not with her. Not a word. Ever.

They said I was psychologically fine. Actually... Anyway, they didn't find anything.  
I talked to the therapists. About everything. Well, almost. Not about that.  
But I talked normally. To everyone.  
Just not with her.

I told the therapists everything.  
Just not about the anger.

This rage that grew in me the more I saw her day after day. And not talking to her.  
The endless rage.  
I didn't take the fucking money!

If I... was really all right, did she ask the last therapist. She wouldn't know what to do.  
Everything would be fine, the woman said. Anyway, she said she didn't know why I wasn't talking to Mom...  
Oh, but I did.  
That rage.

THAT RAGE!  
Eventually, I moved out. High school diploma, which I did pretty well. And since I stopped talking at home, I had more time. I used it for school and stuff. so I could get a shot at the job market. I just wanted to leave.

Job-wise it was still difficult then. Because ... they thought I was weird. Because I didn't talk to her and nobody knew why. Word had gotten around, small towns are like that.

So I left. Moved to Portland, where nobody knew me.  
I didn't see her for years. Why should I? We didn't talk on the phone.  
She tried to call me. But I didn't say anything. I didn't talk to her.  
I was just angry.  
I didn't take the fucking money!  
She didn't trust me, didn't believe me!  
I just felt THIS rage!

And then... yesterday. In the bar where I work.  
There was money missing from the register. It was my shift.  
There was twenty dollars missing.  
Twenty fucking dollars.  
And they suspected me.

The boss called me into the office. This morning.  
He was there, his son, our shift supervisor.  
And my colleague. He's been working here for years. Not me. I've only been here a few months. So it had to be me.

I, uh...  
... did...  
NOT...  
Take  
this...  
goddamn...  
money...  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I do not steal.  
I DON'T STEAL!

I have my faults.  
I find it hard to forgive. Is this one of them?  
It may be.

I get angry easily.  
Is that one of them?  
It might be.

Angry.  
RAGE!!!!  
I feel that rage!!!!!

Is it a fault my hands are so wet?  
Maybe.  
Of... blood...  
sure.  
A mistake, okay, I admit.  
I may murder, slaughter, slash...  
but I do not steal.

Yes, I killed them. With the big sharp knife we use to slice lemons.  
It slides into the meat like warm butter.  
The blood has made quite a mess. It's going to be hard to scrub back from that beautiful old copper bar.

Yeah, they're right there. In their blood. God, the screams were unpleasant. Idiots.  
Accusing me!  
I WASN'T STEALING!  
NEVER!

Well, somebody else will clean up the counter.  
I'm taking a vacation.

I'm going to see Mom.

I'll explain to her that I don't steal.

I'm going to see Mom.

Where's that knife...


End file.
